


stay the night with the sinners

by mpdghoul



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal, Balthier/A Lot of Dicks, Blow Jobs, Gang Rape, Glory Hole, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Past Rape, Kidnapping, M/M, Mindbreak, Non-Consensual Bondage, Two Endings, Vaan/ALSO A Lot of Dicks!, not doing the raping, please note balthier and vaan are the ones being raped, there is one (1) instance of (vaguely) consensual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpdghoul/pseuds/mpdghoul
Summary: Balthier and Vaan are new to this whole "partners" thing – which is why they plan out, carefully, step by step, the details of their first heist together. So meticulously planned, what could possibly go wrong?As it turns out, quite a lot.
Relationships: Balthier/Vaan, Balthier/Vaan (Ivalice Alliance)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	stay the night with the sinners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gizamalukesgrotto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gizamalukesgrotto/gifts).



> this is a gift for a wonderful friend, who prompted some very delicious BalVaan-hostage-gangrape for a fic exchange between our close group of friends. 
> 
> this was also my real first dive into writing rape (and gangrape at that!) so I hope this is as satisfying to read as it was for me to write. Balthier and Vaan are such a fun duo to write about – even when they're suffering. if you'd like a happy ending, read all the way until the end. if you prefer to have your endings be angsty or ambiguous, you can stop at the second to last paragraph, before the "•••" break
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

They’ve been going over the plans for what felt like hours, Vaan thinks. One would think it would grow tiresome, but with the right amount of alcohol and Balthier’s hair shining like copper in the firelight, well, it wasn’t such a hard way to pass the time. They’ve fallen into another soft silence, eyes meeting and then darting away, as if playing some unspoken game that neither will admit to. It’s in the heaviest part of this silence that Fran enters the room, asking about the heist, their first one together, alone, without Fran or the others. 

Balthier turns to Fran. “Now what did I tell you? Every step, perfectly planned. Just as easy as the rest of them.”

“Oh, right, because every heist is just so _easy and predictable_.” Fran says, her voice thick with sarcasm.

••

Vaan comes to, foggy and feeling strangely heavy, unsure of what time it is or where exactly he is, only that it’s dark and quiet, save for the sound of muffled, labored breathing diagonally behind him. It takes a moment before he realizes the heavy feeling, the pounding in his head, is because he’s hanging upside-down, suspended from a hook on the ceiling, tied tightly with heavy rope. He grunts, a rag tied across his mouth, and begins to squirm, doing all he can to find a weak spot in the binds. His wrists chafe against the rough rope and a low grunt of protestation comes from behind him again. He rocks himself back and forth, trying to move enough to spin around and get a look at where the noise was coming from. When he finally succeeds, he registers Balthier’s slim body, hanging upside-down as well. _Like meat on a hook…_ he thinks, before shaking his head. Balthier is glaring at him, but his scolding is quieted by a rag. He tries to give Balthier a look that reads “What the hell happened?”. It’s only a moment before Vaan hears heavy footsteps and raucous laughter coming from the other side of the closed door. 

A large pirate, clearly not the leader but who certainly wanted to be, yanked on Vaan’s hair, forcing his head up. Vaan meets his eyes, dark and fiery, and doesn’t flinch. 

“Well aren’t you pretty?” His voice is thick and slurred, with a jagged edge like a knife. He runs a thick, warm finger down the curve of Vaan’s cheek, following his jawline. Vaan resists the urge to recoil at the touch, nausea rolling in his stomach. 

“What’d’ya think, blondie, you want me to go first or last?” Vaan narrows his eyes as the pirate breathes the smell of sour whiskey over his face. He sees Balthier out of the corner of his eyes as he lurches towards him at the pirate’s words, a futile movement still bound in his ropes. 

“Rhov, let it alone – you’ll get your turn.” Another pirate swaggers in, with two more behind him like shadows. Vaan looks over to Balthier then, and their brief eye contact only unsettles him more. 

Vaan grumbles into the rag covering his mouth, eyebrow quirked, betting on the man’s power trip and drunken state and winning when he feels the meaty finger slide between the rag and his face, jerking it down around his neck. He drags his tongue along his bottom lip and lifts his chin, leaning up into the pirate’s hand, still buried in his hair, beckoning him closer. He can hear Balthier next to him, protestations muffled underneath a sister rag, ripped from the same dirtied cloth as Vaan’s. 

Rhov does as Vaan expects, to Vaan’s satisfaction when the spit he’s been collecting in his mouth launches and lands smack in the middle of his face. The victory is short-lived as he feels a hard _THUNK_ to the back of his head.

••

Balthier wakes with a start, his head pounding, with… a hangover? It feels worse than a hangover, he thinks, and less familiar. It only takes another split second for it all to come rushing back to him, the heist, the plan, the… he tastes fabric in his mouth, cotton and grime. _Fuck_. 

His vision clears as he orients himself to being flipped 180° and he sees Vaan, still out, swinging a few feet away from him, blond hair hanging in wisps that just nearly touch the ground. Balthier tries not to panic, tries not to think about what might happen to Vaan, to either of them, on this ship, in unfamiliar waters, and if the pirates they encountered last night were anything like what he’d heard, well… he shuddered, skin chafing against the rough rope that bound him. 

Cool, calm, collected – that’s what a leading man was. That was what he had to be. For himself, for Vaan. He’d survived worse than kidnapping in his days as a pirate, after all, he could survive whatever this would be. But Vaan… Balthier squeezes his eyes shut, but it only makes it worse. All he can see is his smile, that light in his eyes and the playful barbs when they had gone over the plans, not once but five _bloody_ times, at his insistence. Balthier had wanted to make sure their first heist together went perfectly, had even told Fran that everything would be fine, that it was planned down to the letter – and it seemed she had been right for her skepticism. He couldn’t say that he was unhappy that his friend and confidant had stayed out of this one. 

He sees Vaan buck suddenly, waking with a start, and Balthier wonders if his body had that same reaction, jerky and subconsciously terrified as well. He hears boots stomping on what he assumes must be the deck above them, and watches with almost morbid interest as Vaan, unlike him, continues to buck, flopping around like a live fish hung for gutting until he’s turned facing Balthier. Balthier feels his brow crease almost instinctively, tries to say something and all that comes out is muffled huffs of air. Vaan quirks an eyebrow but any further interaction is stopped short by the boots from above becoming boots in the hall, loud and forceful followed by a door slamming open, enough to send a shake through the wooden beams and Balthier swears he can feel his eyes move in his skull. 

He watches the pirate called Rhov, a muscled and hairy man, body shiny with sweat and reeking of beer and whiskey rake his eyes up and down Vaan’s bound form like a wolf ready for a hunt. Their exchange has Balthier wound tighter than a spring, and he lunges when he hears the suggestion the pirate makes to Vaan, emotional restraint be damned, to hell with Rhov’s backup in the doorway, he couldn’t stand watching the pirate talk to Vaan like that, touch him _like that_. He nearly lunges again as Vaan beckons him closer, giving him a look that Balthier swears almost looks familiar. Balthier’s brief urge to laugh as Vaan spits in the man’s face is cut short when he sees the pirate’s meaty fist connect with the base of Vaan’s skull, and instead he lunges again, shout muffled by the rag still tight against his mouth. 

Rhov turns to him then, one bushy eyebrow quirked and a smirk that makes Balthier somehow even more uneasy. “Won’t have y’putting up a fight like that one now, I won’t. We’ll all make sure of that.” His smirk turns into a toothy snarl, as Balthier, head pounding, straightens his spine and doesn’t flinch as he feels the same fist connect with his same pressure points, and he wonders briefly if he and Vaan’s pain have any symmetry, if this is what Vaan felt, too, as his vision goes black. 

••

When Vaan comes to the throbbing pain in his head that had initially plagued him has changed shape, the location lower, his skull not pressurized from bloodrush but aching nonetheless. He groans and goes to reach for the source of the pain, only to find himself bound, this time very differently, his wrists, forearms, and ankles spread and tied down, a breeze ghosting over his now bare legs. 

It’s only then that he registers the background noise, not actually in the background but so very front and center that he finds it hard to believe it isn’t the first thing he noticed upon waking up. Grunts and groans are coming from across the room, cries like a wounded hellhound mixed with brutal, raucous laughter. It stinks, still, if somehow stronger, of sweat and ale. He lifts and turns his head, his body straining against the ropes, and sees Balthier, bound in the same way as he, naked from the waist down with his vest and shirt all but ripped off as that pirate, inside him, _that_ … Vaan doesn’t think he even has words for the ire he feels, his heart pounding in his throat, sudden panic enveloping him in a way it so rarely does. 

It’s then that he feels a hand slide along his jaw and down his neck and he turns, eyes wild, to see a pirate standing over him. “My Gods, small and frightened like a giza rabbit, you are. Will you get fiesty like they do if I touch you?” The man’s hand moves lower and Vaan jerks instinctively, grimacing at the pressure of the rope on his limbs and his own voice is cut off by a snarl from behind him.

“Take your bloody hands off– hnn–” Balthier’s accent is still clipped, still somehow posh even through all this, cut off by a strangled, pained cry as Rhov thrusts into him. It doesn’t take him long to recover, his words escaping through gritted teeth, “Don’t you touch him! I’ll bloody kill you!” 

Vaan wants to scream, wants to tell Balthier to shut up, to stop defending his honor, not now, not– 

Rhov’s laughter rings across the room, staccato and breathy with his movements inside Balthier. “I don’t really think you’re in a position to be bargaining, you sorry excuse for a pirate.” 

Balthier’s indignation, the fire Vaan is so used to, has faded slightly and it hurts Vaan’s heart to hear it. “Use me, but don’t… you can’t touch him. Anything but him.” 

“ _Balthier!_ ” Vaan cries out, unable to stop himself, his voice always working quicker than his own mind, desperate for the man to shut the hell up. 

“Tell y’what, if you…” Rhov’s voice lowers, dark, as he leans over into Balthier’s ear, and the words are lost to Vaan. All he sees is Balthier nod through gritted teeth, hears his words come through like a thunderstorm forcing its way through clapboard shutters.

“I’ll take them all, so long as you don’t touch him.” 

Rhov beckons to the circle of men, their eyes hungry and predatorial, and Balthier is lost in a sea of bodies then, as Vaan begins his futile struggle with the ropes that bind him. 

••

“Tell y’what, if you can please these men here in the time it takes me to – hmm, let’s say, finish a few pints, ah, I’ll let your boy go. We won’t touch him, he can stay all yours. Is that what you’d like? To please all of us?” 

“I’ll take them all, so long as you don’t touch him.” Balthier’s jaw is set, his entire body is taut and hot like a live wire. Rhov thrusts into him one last time, and Balthier cries out, his mind beginning to fog and lull as he sees the other men draw in closer. He takes a sharp inhale then. _For him_ , he thinks, _for Vaan I can do this_ . A cock finds its way to his mouth and he resists the urge to retch at the heavy scent of musk and sweat, working his mouth as best he can around this pirate’s thrusts, and the other he can feel crowding his already spent entrance. He groans painfully as he feels the thrust from whoever is between his legs and clenches, desperate to get it over with. _If it will protect him_ , he thinks, doing all he can to drown out the pants and moans from the pirates around him. He feels a cock in each hand and closes his eyes, trying to let go as he tightens his grip around the shafts. 

The man above him, thrusting into his mouth, yanks him by his hair, causing Balthier to gasp and his eyes to wrench open. 

“Tha’s right, pretty boy… you better look at me while you take my cock in your mouth. I want to see your face with tears in your eyes and my cum dripping down your chin.” 

“The most infamous pirate of the high skies, brought to this! What a sight you make.” another pirate growls from above him. “I see why Eustrax was so keen to have you back in his possession…” Balthier only vaguely registers the name, a spark of haunting familiarity that he ignores in favor of clenching around the cock currently buried inside him, wondering how long this would go on for. He feels sticky and sweaty, cum leaking out of him and unwillingly, embarrassingly hard from the use. 

It’s then, vision swimming, that he sees Rhov making his way over, swaggering, pint in hand. “Oh dear,” he stumbles over his words, “looks like you couldn’t even manage to get through half the men in the time we agreed upon, I’d say that makes your boy ours now.” Balthier struggles then, for the first time in what feels like far too long, his fighting instinct roaring up at the words. “Can’t say I’m unhappy with that.” Rhov chuckles as his eyes dart over and linger on Vaan, who’s already being leered at by other crewmen. 

“Don’–” Balthier starts but is cut off by a large man stepping over him and shoving his hard cock into his mouth, and Rhov laughs again. 

“Oh, you don’t get to talk anymore. You lost your bet, now you get to take it like a man.” 

Balthier hears Vaan’s protestations in lieu of seeing them, and it makes it worse, somehow. Leaves more to the imagination while his senses are already overwhelmed, torturous heat and stretch leaving him aching. 

A new voice joins in the hoard, then, from the other side of the room and even now, swimming in sensory overload, Balthier recognizes it with a pang of horror and the pieces of the puzzle click into place. 

“Down, _dogs_.” a smooth, lilting voice travels over the rest. “I’ll be taking first crack at the blond. He’s just my taste.” Balthier can hear the sneer in his voice, tries to muffle the groan as the cock inside him slams on his prostate, the instinctual pleasure overpowered only just by the pain of overstimulation. “But first,” he hears the voice get closer, hears the sharp click of heeled boots on the floor in contrast with the heavy thuds of the crewmen – he could place the gait anywhere, he thinks, even after all these years, and he gets his confirmation when a face, haloed in the fiery light from the laterns, all lines and sharp angles, with long and curly red hair appears above him, grinning mirthlessly. Eustrax, an unforgettable face that matched his unforgettable acts. Balthier’s body convulses, on instinct, desperate to recoil from the man he had the misfortune of meeting when he was nineteen. “First,” the man continues, “I think we should let these two get a little more familiar.” Eustrax runs a hand along Balthier’s jaw, the caress quickly becoming a painful hold, “Unless you’ve already taken that ride, dear?” Balthier’s eyes narrow and he growls, low and animalistic. 

“Oh, that’s a no, is it? Of course, not the virtuous Balthier, _never_ … You never told him what a slut you were at his age? How good of a fuck you were? I’m sure you’ve wanted to show him the ropes. Why don’t we let him get a little taste, hmm?” Eustrax’s hand leaves his face and disappears from his vision. 

••

Vaan has little time to react before he feels the ropes around his hands being replaced and his arms wrenched behind his back before being re-tied again, clasped together in some kind of reverse, bastardized prayer. He’s trying to understand what the pirate, the one who he can see clearly now as the actual leader, as opposed to Rhov playing at power, means when he says those things to Balthier. He’s not been touched and feels exhausted, spent still. He feels a leather collar buckle tight around his neck and he swallows at the unfamiliar pressure. 

It’s then that he’s thrown on the ground, limbs smacking against the wooden planks like blood from an animal and Balthier, sweaty and exhausted, is thrown beside him. 

“Balth–” Vaan whispers, his whisper cracked and dry, trying to ask _why, why would Balthier do that to protect_ him _, of all people_?

“Don’t.” Balthier’s voice is harsh, hoarse like sand in a desert wind. “And I’m… I’m sorry for whatever might happen next. I– you– you don’t deserve this.” 

“I’m just glad it’s you I’m with, Balthier.” Vaan’s eyes soften and Balthier meets them, looking as if he’s desperate to touch him. 

“I know. Me too.” 

It’s then that Eustrax interrupts, tells them to shut up and orders two larger pirates to flip them so that their heads are at each other’s waists. “Bind them up!” Eustrax cries, chuckling. “Let’s see how you two please each other, then. And see how ready you’ll be for me when this is done.” His eyes glimmer, leering at Vaan’s naked body, and it’s only knowing it’s Balthier that brings Vaan some small comfort as he looks at the tip of the man’s cock. He wonders what Balthier is feeling, thinks back to their chat over drinks last night, the lingering touches, the looks, imagining this for, Gods, Vaan almost doesn’t want to think how long. And his cowardice last night has somehow made him pay twice over, for this being the way it happens. 

He hears jeering, feels gil hitting the back of his legs and shoulders, and leans his head in, taking Balthier in his mouth and feeling, of all things, relief. 

••

Balthier hates this, hates this spectacle that he and Vaan somehow are, with jeers and cheers coming from all around them but he can’t help it, the full-body shudder and the groan that escapes his mouth when he feels Vaan wrap his lips around him. 

He hears a _pop!_ as Vaan removes his mouth, a loss Balthier feels _painfully_ , followed by a whisper, “Balth’, touch me, please. Before they do.” Vaan’s tongue licks a stripe up his shaft and Balthier sucks in a breath before he takes Vaan in his mouth, and Gods, he thinks, nothing has tasted sweeter. He’s wanted this, always denied himself despite their flirting, the playful jabs back-and-forth, knowing the connection was there but never wanting to ruin– his thoughts come to a screeching halt and he shudders again as Vaan’s tongue swirls around his tip, licking over the slit and he hopes that Vaan can feel it just as intensely when Balthier hums along his shaft.

He almost can’t hear the taunts and jeers from the crowd around them, though the gil that settles around their bodies is hard to miss. 

“You give as good as you get, don’t you, you little slut?” 

“Look at that mouth, Gods, I can’t wait to feel that tongue on me. He knows what his purpose is, pleasure and pleasure alone. Eustrax, can’t they be done yet?” 

“Oh, I’ll drink to that!” Ale splashes against Balthier’s back and he does his best to ignore it, trying to focus instead on the boy – the man, he reasons – in front of him. 

••

Vaan moans around Balthier’s cock, and it’s almost too much to bear – being tied together isn’t helping matters. He can feel the _hotstickysweatyaching_ of Balthier’s body against his, can feel his breaths coming in quick, heavy pants and it’s like his blood is on fire. He hates it, a little, hates that he can feel like this, feel this attracted to and turned on by the man in front of him while they’re being leered at, being mocked and bet on and prepped for something so much worse. Like he can ignore what might happen and simply focus on pleasing Balthier, now. And so, for lack of a better plan, he does. He’s always wanted this, ever since he first met Balthier and Fran in the royal palace that fateful night. He quickens his pace, eager to feel Balthier’s breath and bucking hips become more frantic, and Balthier matches his paces. Vaan feels something curl in his stomach then, a tight spring desperate to unwind, and his vision turns to spots as he cums, hard and fast, his mouth around Balthier’s cock the whole time. 

In a limp daze he hears the shuffling of gil, the commentary on how he looked while he came, how good he was at taking cock, when he feels the ropes grow taut and feels the edge of a dagger along his skin as they cut the rope. 

“Balthier!” 

“Vaan– I– hold on!” 

It’s then that Eustrax steps between them, eyes on Vaan as his crewmen tie him up by all fours once again. “It’s my turn now, you hungry little lush.” 

Everything else becomes white noise, a wave _whooshing_ onto shore in his ears. He thinks he can hear Balthier scream, thinks he feel the hands of other men on him but he’s not really sure, anymore. He feels a painful, burning stretch at his entrance, sees Eustrax, this captain, still in his fine coat and lapels, hover over him, before plunging himself inside Vaan. Vaan cries out, pain with an edge of – he won’t say it – as Eustrax thrusts into him in sharp, quick movements. A smooth hand wraps around his throat then, and he feels the captain more than sees him as he leans into his ear. 

“Did you know that I once fucked Balthier just like this, long ago, when he was as many years as you are now?” He chuckles then, and Vaan twitches, his body aching, unsure of what to feel. “He was just the same, a greedy, begging little slut, desperate to be fucked and touched by as many men as possible. Funny how that happens, hmm?” He gestures to the men surrounding him, watching hungrily, and suddenly Vaan is overtaken by bodies, by sweaty hands and hard cocks leaking onto him. 

“Please, I don’t… I don’t want this!” his protestations on deaf ears, his erection throbbing and Gods how he wished it would stop, this wasn’t something he liked, it wasn’t– _he didn’t want this_ , he swore, mumbling, for what felt like an unendingly long time as one cock was replaced with another in his mouth, his ass, now stretched painfully and leaking cum from a crowd of men. 

He isn’t sure how long it goes on, only knows that it doesn’t end, not for a long time, his cock spent from many unwilling orgasms. When he comes to some strange form of consciousness, he’s in a cramped space, dark and small, with three holes letting in just barely enough light to see anything by, large but not quite large enough to fit his hand through. He wonders what he’s doing there. 

••

Balthier isn’t really sure what he’s doing anymore, only that he’s in a haze that he can’t seem to escape from. There are so many men, so many more than he even remembers counting when they had first started, and he wonders where they’re all coming from. Haven’t they been satisfied? Weren’t they done yet? He moans, almost reflexively, as another cock pushes past the ring of muscle and inside him. His cock twitches, and Gods does he want to save Vaan, to stop what’s happening, but he’s not even sure if that’s possible anymore. He’s not sure he can do anything, anymore, but lay there and be fucked. 

“What happened t’ this one, hmm? I thought he’d still have a little fight left in ’im.”

••

Vaan moans around the shaft of the cock currently in his mouth as another fits itself through the hole of the container he’s trapped in, can hear the men outside groaning and talking about what a good mouth he has. He takes his cock in one hand and the stranger’s in the other, feels himself getting hard and somewhere in the back of his mind something doesn’t feel right but then, oh _but then_ , he remembers that this is what he’s meant for. This is his proper _use_ . What’s wrong with getting off to doing the one thing he can do? A third cock fits through the last hole and Vaan is plunged into darkness as he removes his hand from his own cock to wrap it around this one. He feels cum in his mouth, suddenly, with little warning and drinks it in like it’s water, like it’s the only thing he’s ever known, and his cock twitches at the triumph of making another man cum. _It’s what he’s made for_ , he thinks. He’s still not sure how much time has passed, not sure if it even matters anymore. Sometimes he thinks he can feel the seasonal winds shifting through the holes of the barrel, and then, because it never really changes, he’s in the dark again. 

•••

It’s close to nightfall and Vaan thinks maybe, maybe for once he’ll get more than an hour or two of uninterrupted sleep, when the clash of metal startles him back to awareness. He hears grunting and shouting, a familiar voice screaming out and the slice of dagger into skin, one that even after all this time he’s still familiar with. He still feels sticky and warm from the day, the bottom of the barrel he sits at dirtied with cum. He suddenly feels, more than hears, the clanging of metal against his barrel, and cowers as best he can in the small space. He doesn’t want out, doesn’t want to see the men he has to please everyday, preferring the small space he has claimed as his. When the top splits open and is yanked off, he sees Fran staring above him, and nearly cries with relief. 

“Come on,” she says softly, her accent thick, her voice even lovelier than he remembers, “We’re getting you out of here.” 

He reaches up to grab her hand and wobbles on weak legs as she lifts him out. “What about Balthier?” 

“What do you mean, ‘what about’ me?” The voice sounds tired, but still as handsome as ever. “I’m here to save you. We’re saving ourselves, like we always do.” Vaan almost can’t bear to hear the words, and he stumbles away from Fran and into Balthier’s arms, clutching him desperately.  
“I thought I’d never see you again.” Vaan says, looking up at the man he’s thought of so much since it all started, afraid that he might not be quite real. 

Balthier scoops him up into his arms and Vaan sags into his chest, weak and weary, cramped from his time in that small, awful space. _This feels real_ , he thinks. _He feels real_. 

“I’ve got you now. And that, I promise, will be the last time you ever feel that way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> comments n kudos always appreciated!


End file.
